Wake
by Halfling Rogue
Summary: Written for the Familiar Series community on LJ. Ed has to maintain a very stressful vigil. Fluff and a hint of angst.


**A.N.:** Okay. So. This was inspired by hime1999, one of the most creative young women you'll ever meet on LJ. Written for her journal community "Familiar Series", which can be found at LiveJournal dot com slash community slash Familiar underscore Series. Tiny bit of angst, tiny bit of fluff. Enjoy.

**Wake**

Ed looked blearily at the clock ticking quietly on the bedside table and rubbed his eyes. The moonlight glared off the timepiece's glass face and made it hard to read the hands, but he didn't dare risk a light that might wake the room's occupant. He already knew it was well past midnight, anyway.

He shifted again, mattress springs creaking under his weight as he turned to brush the the bangs from his son's forehead. A forehead that was still far, far too warm. Lips pressed into a thin line, Ed dipped the cloth into the bowl of water once more and wiped it across Rowan's brow. The boy whimpered in his fever-induced sleep, but didn't move, didn't waken.

He couldn't ever remember being quite this frightened, this _helpless_, even in his younger days when he and his brother had encountered countless dangers on their journey. At least then he could do something, he could fight or swear or think his way out of things.

You couldn't do that with a disease.

He had watched with a worried eye as Rowan's energy level had seemed to drop over the last few days, and when that morning he started complaining of a sick stomach, Ed had taken him over immediately to the doctor's. He'd been assured that it was simply the beginnings of a cold that was going around, that it might get a bit worse before it got better but that it should pass. The doctor had given him some antibiotics and ibuprofen to give to Rowan in case a fever came up, and a list of extreme symptoms that could occur, as well as explicit instructions to bring Rowan right back if any of them did. Grim-faced, Ed had picked up his bleary-eyed son and brought him back home.

Pinako, Winry, and Al had all paid a visit as soon as they heard, helping him baby the youngster through the afternoon. Rowan had seemed glad enough of the attention, but couldn't manage to keep himself awake for all of it. The women gave Ed as much help and advice as they could before they left, but soon had to return to their customers at the shop, leaving Al to assure his distraught brother. Night fell even faster and then Al had to leave as well, leving Ed alone with a sick child and heart full of panic.

Rowan hadn't been able to eat any supper, complaining of nausea before dropping back into another fitful sleep. Then the fever had broken out, and the older Elric had spent the entire night so far at his son's side, watching anxiously, waiting anxiously.

He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, not tonight. No matter what the doctor had said, no matter what Winry and Pinako said, no matter what his own common sense said (heck, he remembered getting the exact same cold back in Central when he was young), he couldn't shove aside the parallel. A frail body, weakening in spirit, losing the will the eat, the will to move, and finally the will to live. It didn't matter that he was the parent this time, and it was his child that was in danger. If anything, that made it worse.

His hand went out to wrap around the smaller one—so tiny!—flung haphazardly across the pillow. "Please be all right," he whispered, his voice shaking threateningly. "I couldn't bear to lose you, too."

His only answer was Rowan's labored breathing and the soft sounds of the night.

--------

He wasn't sure when he'd fallen asleep; possibly sometime after dawn, propped uncomfortably in the wooden chair he'd set next to his bed. He'd been awakened by a sharp tugging on his sleeve and the incessant question of, "Dad? Dad? Daaaaaaaaad!"

Ed cracked open tired eyes and smiled at his son. Sitting up in bed, Rowan beamed back, honey-hued eyes bright. "I'm hungry."

Wordlessly, Edward reached forward and ennfolded Rowan in a hug. A bit confused, Rowan hugged back until his father pulled back again and ruffled his hair. "What do you want to eat?"

"Pancakes!" was the immediate reply. Ed grimaced a little—he swore the griddle had a grudge against him, and he had scorch marks on his automail to prove it—but gave a little mock salute.

"Alright, but you'd better eat what I give you, understand?" Rowan nodded enthusiastically. Ed handed him a large glass of water. "Drink this, and rest a bit more, and I'll bring up your pancakes when you're ready."

"Okay. Thanks, Dad!" A pause. "Do I have to go to school today?"

"No. But you're going to have to catch up on your homework tomorrow."

"Awww."

It wasn't until he'd stepped into the hallway and started down the stairs, that Edward allowed himself to release the breath of intense relief that he'd been holding.

**.Owari.**

_Omake:_

"Ed, we warned you it was contagious."

"Wow, Dad's really cranky when he gets sick, isn't he?"

"Brother, you can't take these pills without milk. The doctor said so."

" . . . You're all out to get me. cough"


End file.
